Five Things That Never Happened to Spock
by breeshell
Summary: Like the title says; five things that never happened to Spock.


Amanda has packed all their things. Every item of clothing, the few toys that he had. Somehow she had managed to contain it all to three suitcases. She has made it clear that they are not coming back.

Spock sits in the den, as calm and placid as ever, clutching to the one object he has any sentimental attachment too. A small stuffed owl, given to him from his human grandmother. He holds tight to the little wings. Amanda comes out of the back, undoing her customary veil that covers her hair and ears. She folds it neatly and leaves it on the table.

"Will Father not be joining us?" Spock asks.

"No," she answers, voice slightly a quiver. "You've said goodbye?"

He nods and looks past her at Sarek in the meditation room, still with the candles lit. "Will I see him again?"

"Of course." She bends down to his level, touches the sides of his face, pushing his hair aside. He squirms slightly, mildly uncomfortable at this affection. "I want you to know, this is in no way your fault."

"I know." He nods. Deep down he knows that his parents troubles do not reflect him, and yet he cannot help but believe their separation has something to do with him. They fought at night and thought their son couldn't hear. She screamed, he raised his voice.

"We'll be okay." She puts on a smile. "Come now." She stands and takes his hand. Men come inside to grab their bags. They walk, mother and son past the meditation room. She cannot bear to look in, but Spock does.

"Goodbye, Father."

Sarek looks up, wistfully at his only child. Spock can see from the faint light of the candles, there are tears in his father's eyes.

*

Spock stares at the his grade on the computer, shocked, sad. This has never happened before. He contemplates going up to the professor, protesting the grade, but a sinking in his stomach tells him not to.

The mark is so strange to him. He studied, he prepared, how was it possible that he could receive anything less than a 100 percent?

He runs his fingers over the PADD again, making sure he is reading it correctly. And it stares back at him and though he knows it's not possible, he feels that it mocks him. A 90 percent, he might as well have failed.

*

The jellyfish ship was getting closer to the _Narada _. Spock doesn't feel the transporter starting. His throat clamps shut when he realizes that its too late. Something has gone wrong.

"Collision in thirty seconds," the computer tells him.

He holds his breath and tries to keep his voice as steady and calm as ever. "Spock to _Enterprise_."

There is static and then he hears Nyota's voice. "Spock? Pull off course we'll-"

"I am sorry," he says. He can't pull off course. This needs to be done. "Nyota I," the words become trapped in his mouth, fumbling over his lips.

"Collision in ten seconds."

"Spock, please." Her voice fades in and out.

He closes his eyes, picturing her face. Dark eyes, black hair. He pictures the smile on her face, the curves of her body. He imagines touching her hair, kissing her. "I love you," he says for the first time in his life. He is shaking.

She is crying, above the static he hears: "I know."

"Collision in five seconds."

"Please," Nyota tries again. "Please don't do this."

"Four, three, two."

He opens his eyes, seeing the the _Narada_. A tear escapes him. Nyota he thinks.

"One."

There is a flash of white light.

*

The closet is small, cramped, filled with cleaning supplies and the two men. Spock is slightly against the wall, being pinned by the shoulders. Jim holds tight to the shirt.

He is unsure of how they got into this predicament, but he allows this. Allows to be pushed and allows Jim's lips to crash into his, bruising and unyielding. Hands are moved to his hair, one on his belt. He reciprocates, leaning into the kiss, spreading his fingers along Jim's neck.

*

He always knew that he would out live her, but he never thought it would be this soon. She is buried on Earth, under a tree. People wear black, they cry. Her mother is on her knees, muttering incoherently, her husband tries to comfort her.

The casket is being lowered into the ground. Mrs. Uhura cries out. Spock stands stiffly watching. How did he let it happen? Why did he let her go on that mission? A wind blows shaking the leaves in the tree.

There is a tugging on his pant leg, hard and panicked. "Daddy, where are they putting Mommy?" His daughter looks up at him. She is only five, she doesn't quite understand. He scoops her up and she wraps her little arms around his neck. "Daddy, it's dark down there, she can't see."

He looses his composure, tears running down his face. "She will be fine, Sondra," he tells her, though unsure.

"Daddy," she sobs uncontrollable into the spot between his neck and shoulder. He tightens his embrace. Others at the service begin crying even more at the sight of a father trying to comfort the daughter. "I want her to wake up."

"Me too," he answers with quivering lips. "Me too."


End file.
